The Way Things Were
by FanfictionWriter83729
Summary: G1. Two drabbles. Autobots, Decepticons, and human mortality.


**Disclaimer: **Don't own Transformers.  
**From this bunny: **A human character (take your pick) dies. The Autobots attend the funeral. The Decepticons show up also.  
**Acknowledgements: **Is alabaster demon's bunny.

Well, even though I think that the IC thing for the 'cons to do would be to somehow desecrate the body/ruin the memorial or something…I decided to indulge my sentimental muse.

Sorry, but I have no idea who the Autobot, the Decepticon, and the human involved are.

The Way Things Change

The service was long over. The Autobot lingered, long after his other comrades had departed for the Ark, waiting for the last of the human mourners to leave.

As soon as the last humans left—the deceased's children—he transformed. The Autobot kneeled before the grave, a bittersweet smile on his features.

His human companion had lived a beautiful life, and had died in the way most humans wanted to die, very old and very loved, warm in his bed and surrounded by friends and family.

But still, it hurt.

The Autobot didn't even flinch as the Decepticon approached, as he had done with the rest of their departed human allies.

The Decepticons had attended the funeral too. They had stayed far away, and were the first gone. At first, the Autobots had been worried about a Decepticon attack; it certainly wasn't beneath them to strike at such a place at such a time. However, after countless ceremonies of the same routine, the Autobots had remained wary, but no longer actively chased the Decepticons away.

Always, it was down to this particular Autobot, and this particular Decepticon, looking down at another one of the humans who had been caught between them.

The Decepticon approached, and looked down at the small tombstone, with a strange look passing over his faceplate, as if he didn't quite believe what he was seeing.

"So another one of your pets is gone, Autobot," he said softly.

"What are you doing here?" the Autobot asked, not expecting an answer.

"Just to say that my only regret is that I did not kill him with you watching."

The tones of both speakers were flat and even, and their optics did not leave the grave.

"Ever since we woke up on this mudball, that squishy has been one of your demented cheerleaders," the Decepticon continued thoughtfully. "A handy bargaining chip too. I hate the change."

Autobots fought Decepticons. Decepticons fought Autobots. Humans got caught in the centre. And no matter how dangerous it was, no matter how much they got hurt, the humans remained faithful to the Autobots, to their friends.

That was they way things were.

The Autobots and the Decepticons didn't have much in common, but they did know this: they hated the way that humans changed.

The Autobot again had the strange thought that it wouldn't be only the Autobots who would mourn when the human race passed before their optics, as was inevitable.

And with that, the Decepticon transformed, and the Autobot joined him, and then both of them were gone, melting into the shadows.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **don't own Transformers.  
**A tweak from this bunny: **The human race is gone. The Autobots and Decepticons (together or separately) discuss what this means. (The war could be ongoing, or it might have ended at some point).  
**Acknowledgements: **Is alabaster demon's bunny.

I think of this as set in the same 'verse as "The Way Things Change," but you can treat it as a stand-alone. Again, even though I think that the IC thing for the Decepticons to do would be to throw a party/take advantage of the Autobots' grief or something, I once again decided to indulge my sentimental muse.

Again, sorry, but I don't know who the Autobot and the Decepticon in question are. Chances are they're the same two from the previous drabble.

Pats sentimental muse on the head and tells it to be good while I go attend to a crack muse and epic-battle-between-good-and-evil muse who are screaming for attention.

Inevitability

The Autobot always knew that it would happen.

It was the consequence of having a lifespan stretching for billions of years, accident and malicious intent permitting, while the human race was not as endowed.

They had a good run; _Homo sapiens _gave way to _Homo nocturna _which in turn was succeeded by _Homo ferratus. _But still, all things came to an end. Organic things just tended to come to an end sooner.

The Autobot stood on that planet, roughly in the place where the Ark had crashed. The volcano was long gone; the earth had shifted yet again. But in his processor he could still see the landscape as it was so long ago.

He stood still there, in that silent planet, and strained his audio processors to their maximum. If he did so, he could almost hear the humans laughing…

He didn't even flinch as the Decepticon stepped out of the shadow.

The war still raged around them. The human race was gone, and still the war remained. But here, on this planet, it was as though they were in a different dimension. The Decepticon would not strike here, and neither would the Autobot. Sometimes predator and prey would drink at the same water hole side-by-side, each having a brief moment of understanding before once again engaging chase, and so it was in this scenario.

It was a "relationship" that very few humans had understood.

"What a waste," the Decepticon said, looking around him. "What a meaningless end."

"You thought that their deaths were meaningless?" the Autobot asked, not moving.

"All life not ended by conquest is meaningless, Autobot," the Decepticon said.

The Autobot was about to retort, but then decided that it was a waste of words. The Decepticons were vastly different from Autobots. If that wasn't the case, then the war wouldn't have started, let alone be still ongoing.

"It's too quiet here," the Autobot said.

"None of those insects around, that's why," the Decepticon said.

The Autobot visited Earth from time to time. He didn't know exactly why, but every so often the Decepticon would too.

The humans were _loved _by the Autobots for obvious reasons. The Decepticons despised the humans, and yet when the human race died out, as was inevitable, the Decepticons mourned too.

The Autobot learned, long ago, that the Decepticons, in general, came to value the humans in a similar way a hunter valued the turbo-fox upon which he set loose his cyber-hounds.

The human race had been changed by them, shifted and moulded by them. They changed and adapted and evolved in accordance with their environment, and the Cybertronians made up much of that environment. In the most twisted way possible, the human race became the wards of the Cybertronian race, and yet another product of its civil war.

And now…now they were gone.

War was a constant. Autobots were a constant. Decepticons were a constant. Humans…humans changed, but they had thought that humans were a constant too. Though the human race changed, one species giving way to the next, they were still humans through and through.

That was the way things were.

But then…then the humans just _left. _Left without permission, left without goodbye, left without a glitching two weeks' notice.

Just left. Just gone.

Gone, gone, gone.

And the war went on without them.

Both Autobots and Decepticons hated the change.

And as they left the silent planet, the Autobot was left absently wondering if the Decepticon was straining to hear the humans' screams as he strained to hear their laughter.


End file.
